


Asleep

by m00njava



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Self-Sacrifice, Sirens, i know nothing about pirates please excuse any innacuracies, like for real richie is gonna explode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24101110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m00njava/pseuds/m00njava
Summary: In which Richie and Eddie are crew mates on the Queen Penny. It's all going (relatively) fine until a pod of sirens arrives.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Kudos: 34





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, welcome to my first official aoo3 fic! I hope you enjoy. I've had pirate!reddie stuck in my head and I slammed this out today. Slight disclaimer- My knowledge of pirates stops at the pirates of the Caribbean franchise, so don't expect this to be historically accurate (like, at all). I just wrote this for kicks and giggles. Again, it's more of the "Jack Sparrow" type of vibe than the "History Textbook" type of vibe, you know? Anyways, please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading <3

A lone figure stood on the ship deck. The beginnings of some sort of storm were stirring in the air, but this didn't seem to deter him. The figure wore a long black coat that blew in the wind, and a white shirt that he left open. He liked the way the wind could flow through him, it made him feel awake.

The salty spray of the ocean cast a fine mist over his face, his clothes, and his hair. The ocean air had a way of working its way into every crevice it could find, and it almost clung to the young man that stood silently on the edge. It made him feel like he was part of it, like the ocean was smothering him and claiming him as its own. While some may be deterred, he craved the feeling. 

Richard Tozier, or Richie to his friends and crew mates, loved moments like these. Several years ago, he'd traded a life of a beggar for that of a pirate. And today, as he stood on the deck of the Queen Penny, he'd never been more certain he'd made the right decision. The streets of his "home" town had been smelly and cramped, you couldn't turn around without bumping into several other people. The sun had beat down on his head relentlessly, causing an eternal sunburn on his forehead. Richie had made a living by performing various crimes that he still didn't like talking about. Needless to say, his younger self had been itching to break out of that town. 

Upon joining the ship, Richie had known it was a risk. But he'd really lucked out with this crew, and he really didn't know what he'd do without them. He was going on his, what, seventh year with the ship? And each day was an entirely new adventure. 

Bill, the captain of the ship, had been with his first mate Stan when they first approached him. Richie had built a reputation on the mainland for being an expert shot and swordsman, and the crew of the Penny needed as many of those as they could get. Recently, they'd made enemies of another ship- one captained by the notorious Captain Bowers. They had hoped that Richie could help keep the ship safe. Then he'd met Bevvy, the only woman- no, person, who'd ever been able to hold their own (and beat him) in a sword match.

Along with those three, he'd met the Quartermaster, Ben. Soon after their meeting, he'd learned that Ben also doubled as Bev's sweetheart. Richie had promised Ben that his interest in Bev didn't go beyond her friendship and sword skills. His worries no longer an issue, Ben then also began a chummy relationship with Richie. Then there was Mike, the Sailing Master. Mike truly was a master at his craft- Richie had never met someone who knew their way around a compass and map quite as well as Mike. It was amazing that Bill had been able to recruit such an exceptional crew. Almost as if fate had brought them all together. 

And how could he forget Eddie. The Surgeon.

Richie didn't know much about his past. He figured that Eddie came from a good family- only rich people were named "Edward". He knew that he'd been training to become a doctor, like his father. But, in their many years of friendship, Eddie had never elaborated on anything beyond that. Richie had asked once, but it had caused an outburst that Richie would rather just forget (this had been one of their only genuine arguments). So, he learned to stop prying. Although, Richie had always wondered what Eddie was running from, or if he was even running from anything. 

The man was a firecracker. Their first meeting had been short, but sweet- Richie had taken his first steps on board, and had immediately crashed into the (much shorter) man. Eddie had immediately squwaked, "watch it, asshole!", and the rest had been history. Their endless bickering led to some complaints from the rest of the crew, but it was simply how the two of them worked.

In the beginning, the two of them had been essentially forced to spend almost everyday together, whether they'd liked it or not. Richie had a habit of hurting himself, and it was Eddie's job to patch him up in the infirmary. They'd been relatively fast friends, despite Eddie's initial show of "hatred". They were the only ones who could keep up with each other's constant stream of wisecracks and insults (besides maybe Bev, but with Eddie, it was different). Eventually, they continued to spend each day together. But this time, it was by choice. And if Richie couldn't breathe when the light hit Eddie just right, or when his hair was perfectly tousled by the wind, then that was his business. He didn't want to mess this up. 

Richie had never had a friend before, and he was happy to count Eddie as his first.

"What are you up to, Trashmouth?" Eddie crept up behind him, dancing some fingers up Richie's back in imitation of a spider. Speak of the devil.

"Taking in the view." Richie turned over his shoulder. Eddie was dressed as he normally was- white collared shirt, suspenders, brown vest. Sensible boots on the bottom. His hair was neatly trimmed, but the wind was already working to muss it up. Sometimes Richie chose to poke fun at his put together appearance, but he let it be today. Slowly, Richie turned back to the waves.

"It's the same view everyday, Rich." Eddie moved to his side, leaning slightly over the railing.

"No, it's not. The water changes. And we're traveling, you just can't always tell." Richie smiled, and stretched his arms out farther from where they were gripping onto the rail. He accidentally went too far, and one of his spindly fingers brushed against the bare skin of Eddie's forearm- the man's button up had been pushed up over his elbows. He let them stay there. Richie wore several rings on his hand, having bought at least one for each finger, and they glinted in the light. Eddie didn't move away, but if he'd seen the dirt underneath Richie's nails, Richie knew he would have. 

"Maybe." Eddie said. The two of them sat in silence for a moment. They did this a lot- Eddie knew that despite Richie's "brooding" facade, he hated being alone for long periods of time. So, he'd seek him out whenever Eddie noticed Richie had disappeared off somewhere. And he always noticed. 

"Is that a new cut? Above your left eye." Eddie had turned now, spotting a pinkish mark on the skin poking through Richie's hair. 

It was. It wasn't anything serious, just a small nick. Sometimes, when dueling with Bev, the two of them got a little careless. A bruise here, a cut there. No hard feelings. 

"Got it from a practice duel with Bev." Richie dramatically flipped his hair back in the ocean breeze. It was getting long, he hadn't sat down to cut it in a couple months now. "Does it make me look sexy?"

"Idiot. Why didn't you bring it to me? It could get infected." Eddie got closer, but Richie barely even noticed. It was common for the two of them to invade each other's space like this, it wasn't shocking to them or any of their crew mates. Richie assumed they'd fallen into this habit during his countless trips to the infirmary, as Eddie was always bandaging up some part of him. "Let me see it."

Eddie leaned in, carefully pushing Richie's (damp) hair back so he could see the healing cut better. Richie tried not to roll his eyes. Eddie worried about as much as a mother hen, especially when it came to injuries. With a start, Richie noticed now how close they were. Close enough that Richie could see the cracks on Eddie's lips, and the faint dusting of freckles that covered his cheeks. 

Richie sucked in a low breath, trying not to notice how his curls were woven between Eddie's nimble fingers. This was unusual. The lack of distance was the kind only reserved for when they weren't among friends. The kind that made it extremely hard for Richie to breathe.

Being at sea was, sometimes, a very lonely thing. Especially in terms of romance. Any physical connection, friendly or otherwise, was bound to have a powerful reaction. At least, that was what Richie told himself.

His chest was heating up, and he could feel Eddie's breath on his face. Richie was vaguely aware that Eddie was standing on his tip toes now. Normally, his smaller frame was something Richie would make a joke about. Richie couldn't think about that now

"I didn't want to bother you." Richie said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"You're my top patient." Eddie murmured. He ran a light finger along Richie's cut, and Richie couldn't suppress his shiver this time. He was fairly certain that this encounter was edging into decidedly non-medical examination territory. Was he closer now? He could count his freckles, or the light speckles in those big, brown eyes. His pulse was in his ears. Richie was certain his heart was about ready to leap out of his chest and splatter onto the deck.

"Eddie, I-" Richie wasn't even sure where this sentence was going, his head clouded with the sea air and the clean scent of the man before him (seriously, how did he manage to stay this clean in the middle of the ocean?). But before he could finish, a slamming of a door broke the two apart, Eddie jumping like a startled cat.

"Dinner's ready! I'd hurry down there before someone steals your food." Bev called out, her fiery red hair billowing in the wind.

"Tell Mike it'll be a cold day in hell before I let him have my roll!" Richie hollered back.

"You'd better get down here and tell him yourself!" Bev disappeared back into the hull as quickly as she appeared, and Richie tilted his head back and groaned, running a hand through his tangled mess of hair.

"Should probably get down there." Eddie said, his eyes focused on the waves once more.

"Yup."

Neither of them moved.

This happened every once in a while. It reminded Richie of an intricate dance, one that could only be performed by them. They joke, they get close, then too close, and then they break. The grand finale was the moments of awkward silence afterwards- only for them to repeat it all over again.

"You know, I-"  
"Anyways, so-"  
They both began, speaking over one another. Then it was quiet again, the crashing of the water on the ship creating the background music.

"We should get down there. Mike's probably already gotten my damn roll again." Richie elbowed Eddie gently in his rib cage. The two of them started the short walk across the deck, the wood creaking underneath their boots.

"Like you need it." Eddie rolled his eyes, clearly jesting. Richie raised a hand to his chest in a display of mock-offense.

"You wound me, Eds!" He swooned exaggeratedly, making a fool of himself for the sole purpose of garnering a laugh from Eddie. His efforts weren't in vain, as the other man let out a faint giggle. He took pride in knowing that. That out of the entire crew aboard the Queen Penny, it was Richie Tozier who made Eddie laugh the most. 

"Don't call me Eds." He whined, pulling open the door for the two of them. The wind threatened to rip it out of his grasp, and Richie took it from him.

"You love it."

Before Eddie could reply, their words were already drowned out by the rowdy clamor from their five other companions.

"They're so loud," Eddie complained, raising a hand to cover one of his ears. "Even louder than you." The shouts of the others echoed through the ship, and Richie could hear Stan accusing Bill of rum theft. That certainly wouldn't end well.

"Really?" Richie asked. This was some sort of compliment, although he couldn't figure it out.

"Well, maybe not when you snore." Eddie sped up towards the galley, where the crew took all their meals together. 

"I don't snore!" Richie protested, chasing after him. He caught up (a benefit of having abnormally long limbs) and wrapped his arms around Eddie, digging his fingers into the skin below Eddie's rib cage- his Achilles heel. The other man squirmed, shrieking in between laughs as Richie moved his fingers up and down mercilessly. 

"Richie-" Laugh. "I swear to God-" Laugh. "If you don't let me go-" Another laugh. "I will drown you!"

"You wouldn't do that, Eds. I'm the only reason they haven't walked you off the plank yet." Richie's grip remained firm, but Eddie's constant thrashing meant he kept getting mouthfuls of his hair (and blows to the abdomen). He relaxed his arms a little, enough for Eddie to twist around in order to face him.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Eddie's breathing was labored from the ordeal, and his face was flushed a light shade of pink.

"I wouldn't say insufferable. Perhaps... slightly-sufferable." Richie pondered.

"That's not even a thing!"

"It certainly is a thing, and you would know if you came up from your little lair in the infirmary every once in a while." 

"I stay in the infirmary so, in case of emergency, I'd be able to save your life, idiot!" 

They were doing it again. The thing where they dance around what they were actually doing, and they cover it all up with banter. Richie both hated it and loved it. His arms were still around Eddie. He should move those. However, he did not.

"You're staring." Eddie stated. Richie couldn't tell if this was part of the joke or not.

"You're staring back." Seriously, was this part of the joke?

Eddie scoffed and slowly moved his arms up, up, and- up to the front of Richie's shirt.

"I honestly don't know why you leave this thing open all the time." Eddie grabbed the ties of the neck, twirling them around and around. 

"It's part of my charm. You like the chest hair?" Richie winked, briefly forgetting how entirely not-friendly and not-appropriate their current position was. 

Eddie didn't respond, instead slipping a few fingers down underneath the thin cotton of Richie's shirt. He almost choked, Eddie's fingers as faint as a ghost's as they daintily skirted along his skin.

They'd touched before- brushing hands when they walked, a hand through too-messy hair every now and then. But nothing like this. Nothing that made the world disappear around them like this. And nothing that couldn't be excused as a helping friend. Eddie was crossing boundaries here, the boundaries that they had carefully constructed themselves. 

Richie was afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid to do anything that might take them out of this moment. And also afraid to let it continue. He focused on the movement of Eddie's fingertips, how they traced lazy but delicate spirals on his skin. This was dangerous. This was sending his nervous system into hysterics. This was- a finger brushed a particularly sensitive spot on his skin. Oh, Jesus.

"Eddie..." His voice was half murmur, half gasp. Richie swallowed, unsure of what Eddie was trying to accomplish here. "What are you-" He cleared his throat. "What are you doing?" 

He stayed quiet, brushing a nail a little further up, going partially up Richie's neck.

And then they snapped back to reality. Almost like a switch had been flipped, the moment was over before it had even really began. The mood shifted back to that of two jovial friends, and Richie's arms dropped back to his sides while Eddie's fingers re-affixed themselves to the two ties of Richie's shirt. Richie didn't know whether to be relieved or to cry. In the grand scheme of things, it was probably best that it had ended so suddenly. Richie knew himself, and he wouldn't have been able to control himself much longer. He would've done something idiotic, and he would have sent them both overboard. In a metaphorical sense, of course. 

"Just fixing your shirt," Eddie's voice still quiet as he tied the strings into a neat bow. "When you keep it open you look like a hussy." 

"Really? Your mother quite likes it-" Richie began, snapping back into his wisecracking self. He'd discovered that humor (however terrible it was) was the best way to get rid of the awkwardness that settled around them after things like this. 

Eddie shoved him as hard as he could, sending Richie careening down the hallway. The two of them slipped into the Galley, unnoticed above the deafening chatter of the others. Richie had immediately gone to pop open a bottle of rum, while Bill discussed the island they were set to arrive at the next day. The members of the Queen Penny avoided pillaging altogether, but they needed money, nonetheless. So they resolved to treasure hunting and the occasional Robin Hood-esque escapade. This destination was a secluded isle, rumored to have a good amount of gold stored within it. Richie was partially surprised that no one had discovered it yet, or at least attempted to retrieve the gold. It wasn't too terribly hidden, and had been clearly labeled on Mike's map. 

Oh well. Finders keepers, he guessed. 

Later, Richie laid in his bunk, unable to sleep. Mike had gotten to his roll that night, but hunger had nothing to do with his current restlessness. He was currently trying his hardest to not think about Eddie, and was failing quite miserably. He kept replaying the scene on the upper decks in his mind, over and over again. And then, if he dared, the scene outside the galley. He could feel Eddie's phantom fingers all over his chest. 

What had gotten into him today? This was uncharted territory for the both of them. Sure, they exchanged the occasional suggestive comment, but everything they did was carefully wrapped up as a joke. In the past, Richie had always been the one who craved physical contact. He had been the first to initiate (friendly) hugs and the one who threw an arm around Eddie's shoulders when they walked together. The most Eddie had ever initiated in their sorry excuse of a "flirtation" (if you could call it that) was the occasional elongated stare from across the room. And now Eddie was all over him and... honestly, Richie didn't even know what he was doing. He still wasn't sure he hadn't made the whole thing up. 

He could have. Richie had an especially excitable imagination, and Eddie hadn't mentioned any of their encounters afterwards. Not even when they walked back to their bunks, alone. 

He wasn't ashamed of his feelings for Eddie, that much he knew. Of course, on the mainland, something like this would never fly. But pirates were different. He'd heard things through the grapevine, of Captains and Firstmates, among others. It was one of the things he appreciated the most about them- pirates were accepting and loved all (well, most). The uptight folks back home could learn a thing or two from them. 

But "accepting" and "acting upon" his feelings were two completely separate things. Richie had been abandoned by everyone, his entire life. His parents had dropped him off at the orphanage as soon as they could. Then the orphanage kicked him out when he hit his teenage years, considering him a "rambunctious scamp" who didn't play well with the other children. Or the adults, for that matter. Then he joined a band of robbers. Who then proceeded to also put him out on his ass, after Richie refused to carry out some of their more unsavory orders. 

After that, he'd voluntarily remained alone. Until he'd met Eddie. And he wasn't risking their friendship for anything, especially not for some flimsy crush, which was most likely just the product of his (painfully) long dry spell. Maybe once they docked in some town he'd deboard and find a prostitute, perhaps that would get all of these pointless thoughts out of his head. The waves pummeled the sides of the ship, he could hear them through the creaking wood. Normally, this sound was comforting to Richie. But tonight it kept him awake, echoing his very own storm inside his head. 

Richie slapped a hand on his forehead, groaning. Why was Eddie acting like this? They'd been fine before. There was a good chance that Eddie didn't even know the effect he was having- who knows, this could be some weird show of friendship. That is most likely what it was. Poor Eddie was throwing everything into the air without even meaning to. What was Richie supposed to do? He'd been pining over this guy for, what, seven years now? And Eddie was just now starting to hint that maybe he wanted to be more than friends who occasionally exchanged loving glances. Or maybe he didn't, and Richie was misunderstanding his motives. 

He got the sudden urge to scream. 

Instead, he got out of bed, shoving his feet into a pair of shoes that may or may not match. He'd go for a walk, get some fresh air (and maybe a roll), and then he'd be fine. Richie just needed to get this out of his system, and the next morning, he'd forget all of this entirely. 

(That was a lie. Richie would never be forgetting this, it would be taking up a starring role in his cycle of favorite daydreams. But he hoped that, at the very least, he'd be able to convince himself it was all just a dream) 

He crept as quietly as he could through the halls of the lower deck, making sure his door closed silently so he wouldn't disturb Eddie in the room next door (he slept with his door open, like a maniac). Richie slightly opened the door leading out, and the wind almost ripped it out of his grasp. The storm had arrived, and it was extremely cold on the upper decks. That was the thing about the water- it had a nasty habit of sucking in everything warm and loving. The wind blew right through him, as Richie was only clad in his sleepwear- a billowing white shirt and black pants. 

Richie turned towards the sky and yelled, very, very loudly. He tried to release every emotion from the day, tried to scream them all out into the night sky, where'd they be carried far away from him by the howling ocean winds. Scream and forget, scream and forget. Richie screamed and hollered until his chest was heaving, and he was certain his voice would be gone, or at least decently gravelly, the next day. He didn't need to worry about the others hearing, the winds and the crashing would cover it all up. 

"What the hell was that?" A voice behind him asked. 

Apparently, the storm would not be covering it all up. 

Richie turned around, and there stood Eddie Kaspbrak, sleep still lodged in the corners of his eyes. He was dressed almost the same as Richie, but he still wore suspenders and his pants were brown. Oh, and his shoes matched. Even if they hadn't, Richie still would have found him beautiful. The moon shone on his head, making him look like he had some sort of celestial halo. His skin seemed to sparkle. Richie wanted to touch it, but he reminded himself who they were and where they were. 

"I..." Richie trailed off, unsure of what lie to make up. He couldn't exactly tell him the truth. "I am working on my battle cry! What do you think?" There. Not believable in the slightest, but a joke was sometimes just as good as a lie. 

"I think you sound like a dying seal," Eddie deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and shivering. "It's freezing out here. How can you stand it?" 

Richie didn't have a coat on, otherwise he would have offered it up to Eddie by now. So, he offered the next best thing. "You want my tunic? Here, take it-" He started lifting his shirt over his head, his exposed skin immediately forming goosebumps in the night chill. Richie had almost worked it off when a pair of hands was forcefully tugging it back down. 

"I don't want your shirt! Jesus. Keep your clothes on, Tozier. Or else you'll get the flu." Eddie sounded exasperated, and when Richie's head poked back through the neck hole of his shirt, he noticed how red Eddie's face had gotten. 

(I can turn you red all over Eddie please let me please please please) 

"No need to lie, Eduardo. I know you're just jealous of my incredible physique." He flexed exaggeratedly, making Eddie groan. Richie was alright-looking, he guessed. Long days of training with Bev had caused him to build up some muscles on his normally scrawny form, so he'd grown into his height, so to speak. Still, it was easy to turn it into a joke. 

"For the love of God, be quiet," Another shiver from Eddie. "Come inside, I don't know how you manage to stay out here for so long." He pleaded, tugging on Richie's sleeve like a begging child. 

"I like it out here, you know that." Richie walked back over to the banister, where the two of them had been talking earlier. Eddie followed, torn between the warmth inside and the man outside. "The cold doesn't affect me." 

"Nuh-uh, no way. You are definitely as cold as I am, you just don't want to admit it." 

"I'm serious! Check." Richie held out a hand for Eddie to feel, wanting to prove something, and also thinking this was the perfect excuse to touch Eddie's hand.

Eddie grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers together. Richie didn't think that was necessary, just a small touch would have been enough to prove it, but if Eddie wasn't going to say anything then he wasn't either. 

"I can't believe it. Your hand is still warm." Eddie gawked at their connected hands in disbelief. 

"I told you! I. Told. You." Richie hooted in victory, raising their locked hands in some form of self-celebration. 

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, jackass." Eddie rolled his eyes, barely suppressing a smile. 

Richie, in a rare act of bravery, decided to push his luck. 

He pulled Eddie close to him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's back in a tight hug. Eddie hesitated for a moment, but reciprocated, hugging back. 

"Mmph." Eddie's face was buried in Richie's chest before he could poke his head out. "What are you doing? How long has it been since you took a bath?”

"I'm keeping you warm, you... freakishly iceberg-like human." Richie responded, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. This could be excused as a friendly act, of course it could. Nothing friendlier than making sure your friend was warm, right? 

"Oh. Alright." Eddie nodded, burying his face back into Richie's chest. Richie sighed, wishing he could live in this moment forever. The rise and fall of Eddie's breathing, the freedom of the waves, the wind breaking around them. He could almost imagine that this was their boat, and it was just the two of them against the world, sailing the seas. He moved a cautious hand to cradle the back of Eddie's head, letting his fingers nestle in his soft hair. Richie had died and gone to heaven, he was sure of it.

He wasn't sure how long the two of them stood there, holding each other. It could have been two minutes, it could have been two hours. They only broke apart when they heard a loud splash in the water, and even then it was reluctant. Richie felt the coldness where Eddie's body had been all too quickly. 

"What was that?" Eddie asked, leaning over the rail, but Richie grabbed one of his shoulders and pulled him back. 

"Not sure, but be careful. I don't want you falling overboard or anything." Richie shot Eddie a worrying look. It would take one big wave, and Eddie could have fallen in, lost to the sea forever. 

There was another splash, followed by another, and another. Richie lost count at around twelve or so. He didn't fail to notice the vice-like grip Eddie had on his hand, nor the fear that filled his eyes. Richie was going to ask him what was wrong, but he was interrupted by a long, glorious note that cut through the night air. 

"Sirens," Eddie gasped, his eyes so wide that Richie was afraid they might pop out. "You have to get below deck, now. We need to tell the others." 

"You're coming with me." Richie grunted, and he grabbed Eddie's arm and hauled his ass through the doors and under the deck, banging on anything he could find, intending on waking up everyone else. Eddie followed 

Richie had never seen nor heard a siren before, and he never intended to. Well, he guessed he had now. He'd heard about them from Ben one night, while they passed around a bottle of rum. Sirens were half fish, half woman, and they were beautiful. The only thing more enchanting than their beauty was their voices. Their song drove men mad, causing them to throw themselves into the ocean and drown. After picking off whatever crew members they could, they'd then sink the ship to get any stragglers. 

In short, the incoming siren pod was very, very bad news for the crew of the Queen Penny. And Richie Tozier had no idea what they were going to do.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be three chapters now, because I'm a rat who cannot follow length requirements. Anyways, enjoy <3

As the crew stood below deck, Richie could hear more splashing against the sides of the ship. He assumed it was only a matter of time before the sirens started singing, and once they did, it would be the end of the road for the Queen Penny. It was a shame that it would be ending like this. Richie and the crew had gotten out of far worse situations. It was kind of embarrassing that they were going to meet their demise at the hands of some fish bitches. 

“Any ideas? Anyone?” Bill asked, ruffling a hand through his hair. He was trying to keep a brave face for the crew, but Richie could see the panic in his eyes. He looked to Stan, who stood stoically next to him. Stan was the idea man around here, maybe he could think of some way to get them out of this. 

“Captain, I mean this in the most optimistic way possible, but I think we are facing certain death.” Stan replied, his face stony. 

A panicked silence fell over them, and it felt unreasonably hot in the cabin. Eddie, Richie noticed, was tucked away into a corner, tapping his foot anxiously. A pang went through his chest. Maybe Richie deserved this, he’d done a lot of unforgivable things in his life. But Eddie? Eddie was pure, and good, and… light. He didn’t deserve this. Eddie should have a long life, doing what he loves with the people he loves. And now some sirens were going to take that from him.

(A flash of Eddie underwater, hair floating around him like a halo, his mouth open in a final, desperate cry for air) 

Richie shook his head, trying to clear that particular thought out. That wouldn’t do him any good right now. He needed a clear, focused mind right now. If that was even possible. 

“Maybe we could try a distraction?” Six heads turned towards the voice, which had come from Ben. “We could get them all focused somewhere else, and then get out of here.” 

“I think that sounds like a good idea.” Bev nodded, lost in thought. Bill cleared his throat. 

“I’m worried about the getting away part. Penny is fast, but she isn’t fast enough to outrun some sirens. You all know that.” Their captain was giving up hope fast.

“The mainland isn’t too far from here. We could-” Mike began, but was cut off by Bill. 

“I said no, alright? It’s too much of a risk.” 

“And staying here, waiting for death, isn’t?” Bev burst, her notoriously short temper finally making an appearance. “It’s our only choice, Bill.” 

The seven of them were silent for a moment, and Richie had never felt more claustrophobic in his life. He hated feeling helpless, hated not having a choice in his own fate. The crew had been in many impossible situations in the past, that was true. But this was the only one that had no visible light at the end of the tunnel. Well, maybe it did- but this light was the death kind, not the “good future” kind. 

“Captain, I think she has a point.” Stan said, clearing his throat and breaking the silence. Bill stared at him, and it may have just been a trick of the light, but Richie almost swore he could see tears in the captain’s wide eyes. After a thoughtful pause, he said: 

“Fine. What kind of distraction?” Bill surveyed their terrified looking faces. 

“Some sort of big noise. Like a cannon?” Ben offered up. 

“Bev and I could fire some cannons into the water. Maybe they’ll go over to check those out, and then we can get the hell out of here.” Richie didn’t even realize he was the one speaking until after he finished. He supposed it had to be him and Beverly, as much as he hated putting one of his best friends in the world in danger. The two of them were the most weapons-oriented members of the crew, and Richie was pretty sure they were the only ones who even knew how to work the cannons. 

“Let’s get going, then.” Beverly jumped up from the table she was seated on, making her way to the door. 

“Wait, you guys aren’t going alone,” Bill interrupted. “We’re a crew. We’re all going up together.” 

Richie started protesting, but was silenced by a pale faced Eddie, stepping out of the corner. 

“Will you shut your big mouth for once, Rich?” His mouth quirked up in a nervous smile. “We’re doing this together.” 

A few moments later, they all stood on the deck, Richie and Bev at the other end of the ship, by the cannons. The winds had picked up now, and they were practically screaming in their ears. Still present was the splashing in the water- if Richie squinted, he could occasionally see the glinting of a fish tail, or a flash of stringy black hair. 

“Ready?” Beverly looked to Richie, her eyes stormy. 

“As I’ll ever be.” He nodded. The two of them got to work preparing the cannons to fire. Richie’s fingers were fumbling, numb from both nerves and the cold. Still, they were ready in record time- the two of them were painfully good at what they did. 

They aimed at an empty looking stretch of water, thinking that aiming for the mermaids themselves would just infuriate them more. It was a pain to light the fuse, as the barrage of wind and rain kept extinguishing their fires. Each failed light just made Richie’s heart beat faster and faster, and he grew frantic. 

Richie knew that he needed to get his act together, lest he make a sloppy mistake (and he made plenty of those). In his hurry, he bumped his cannon to the side a little bit, but he didn’t have time to fix it- the new angle would have to do. Besides, it was only a few feet off. That couldn’t make much of a difference, right? Eventually, the cannons fired off, one, two, three times, the loud “boom” reverberating deep in Richie’s core. He’d never quite gotten used to that. 

The silence after the firing was almost deafening, the splashes of the sirens coming to an abrupt stop. Had they done it? 

“I can’t believe it, we-” Mike began, running towards the ship’s wheel that would steer them to the safety of the mainland. 

But before he could finish, there was an unearthly scream, one that ripped through the air and clawed at Richie’s ears as if someone had dragged a knife along a porcelain plate at dinner time. He felt it deep within him, the ear piercing shriek cutting right to his bones. 

“What was that?” Beverly turned from the cannon towards Richie, and was answered by hundreds more of the same, terrible scream. 

“What did we do?” Richie asked as his heart dropped into his boots. They couldn’t have failed, they couldn’t have. This was their only chance. He surveyed the waves, and beneath their surface, hundreds of dark figures stirred with unease. A ruby tinged wave caught his eye, and he realized with growing horror that, where his cannon had landed, was a dark red plume of blood. 

“Oh God,” Beverly gasped, her voice shaking. This was the most scared she’d ever been. “We killed one.” 

_Not “we”, Bev. Me._

The screaming wouldn’t stop. The sirens kept up their horrible refrain, a chorus of bone chilling screeches that filled the air and drowned out any and all other sounds. The siren pod’s grief over their lost sister fueled their cries, and they grew louder and louder until Richie couldn’t even hear his own breathing, his eardrums throbbing and his blood pulsing at his temples. He was in hell. And they hadn’t even started singing yet. 

“You all need to get below deck, NOW.” Eddie yelled over the screams, his voice a welcome and strong light in their sea of terror. How was he able to be so loud and clear? Richie had never heard him speak like this before. Eddie was a vision of heroism as he pushed those on his side of the deck towards the doors leading below, even as the men fought against him, desperate to take their final stand. 

Richie and Beverly stood farther away, their eyes transfixed on the gore that floated in the water. Richie felt sick. They had been so close, but then he had to go and ruin everything. The sinking of the Queen Penny, and the subsequent deaths of his only friends, would be his fault.  
“Both of you, get below deck.” Eddie grabbed one of each of their arms, attempting to drag the two of them where he had sent the others. 

“What? No.” Richie shook his head vehemently. Going below deck meant surrender. There had to be something they could do, even when facing certain death. Richie had never been very good at accepting the truth, whether that be the current situation, or the fact that he was probably going to die without knowing what Edward Kaspbrak’s lips felt like. 

Was this a bad time to think about that? 

“I can handle this. I need you both to stay safe.” Eddie pleaded, his eyes bright and wild even in the darkness of the night. What exactly was he planning, here? There was no way Eddie was going to take on a siren pod by himself. 

“I’m sorry, Eds, but I’m staying.” Richie stood firm, an unmoving rock. 

The door slammed open, and out piled their four other crewmates. A look of fear and annoyance passed over Eddie’s face. “They’re all idiots who can’t follow orders.” He grumbled under his breath, before turning to face the frenzied crew. 

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you all that we’re a crew. That means we stick together.” Bill yelled, his coat billowing in the wind as the others scrambled around him. 

“Bill, I respect you as my captain and my friend. But you don’t know what you’re dealing with here.” Eddie was oddly calm, and he met Bill’s gaze with an even, determined stare. 

“No, I don’t think _you_ know what _you’re_ dealing with here!” Bill was angry now, this wasn’t good. The crew needed to keep their wits about them, but Bill was fraying at the edges, probably more because of the blood thirsty sirens than Eddie’s insubordination. “I have been sailing these seas since I was born. How long have you been here, Eddie? A couple years?” 

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a beautiful harmony that erupted from below the waves. Instantaneously, Bill, Mike, Ben, and Stan’s eyes rolled back into their heads and their mouths went slack. 

“What’s going on?” Beverly ran to Ben’s side, gently pulling on his arm. “Ben? Wake up, doll. Please, wake up.” 

Richie pretended not to see the tears that ran down their face. 

“We don’t have long until they start jumping ship.” Eddie spoke, his voice eerily monotone. 

The chorus of sirens around them was painfully beautiful. Richie had never heard anything like it- not in the churches on the mainland, or any of the choirs that sang in the streets. The music was worlds away from the cacophony of horrors that the sirens had created only moments before. And yet, their glorious refrains simply went in one of Richie’s ears and then slipped out the other. 

“Why aren’t we in the trance too?” Richie asked, confused. He thought their song was all powerful- why was it failing on them? 

Eddie blinked at Richie, obviously surprised that he wasn’t dead to the world like the other men on the ship. He swallowed, and said: 

“It… uh… it doesn’t work if you-” He took a deep breath in. “It doesn’t work if you aren’t attracted to women.” 

Oh. Oh. Alright. This wasn’t how Richie had wanted this information to get out, but it was happening now, whether he liked it or not. He might as well go with it.

“We shouldn’t talk about this now, we’ve got to come up with some kind of plan,” Eddie said as soon as Richie’s mouth opened. Eddie was right, this was not a good time for this conversation. Plus, knowing Richie, he would probably say something stupid. Or confess his love. Probably both of those, if we’re being honest here. 

“Ben? Ben, snap out of it.” Beverly was still lightly prodding at Ben, giving him a good shake every once in a while. Richie’s heart pulled as he watched her desperately pull at Ben’s arms, his clothes, his hair, wanting so desperately for him to snap to attention. They didn’t deserve this.

“He’s not going to unless we _do something_ , Bevvy.” Eddie had his no-bullshit face on. Richie wasn’t sure when he had become some sort of siren expert. As far as he knew, Eddie’s expertise basically started and ended with medicine (and Richie). A man had to have his hobbies, he guessed. 

“What are our options?” Beverly’s voice was high and strained, as she threw her hands up in an “I give up” kind of way. 

“I don’t know.” Eddie answered truthfully. They were quiet for a moment, the only sounds around them the crashing of the waves and the haunting siren song.

“We could try the cannons again?” Richie spoke up. 

“And risk hitting one again?” Beverly said incredulously. 

“Do you have any other ideas?” Richie and Beverly were prone to fighting, even though they were best friends. It never had any long term effects on their relationship, but with their mutually short tempers, they were bound to go off on each other every once in a while. Usually, they’d make up over a bottle of whiskey or whatever alcohol was on the ship. Richie didn’t know if they’d even get to do that this time. 

“Stop it. We need to stay calm, and we need to stick together.” Eddie spoke as if he was berating two small children. It made Richie feel small. 

“Fine.” Richie crossed his arms. 

Suddenly, Bill, his eyes still rolled to the back of his head, was stumbling towards the edge of the ship. His jerking movements reminded Richie of a reanimated corpse, and he realized with a twist of his stomach that they’d gotten to the part where the enchanted sailors attempted to drown themselves. 

Meaning, they’d essentially run out of time. 

“Shit! Shit! Guys, get him!” Eddie yelled as he tried to restrain Bill, and just as he was getting a handle on the other man (who was nearly twice his size), the others began to stagger towards the railing. 

“I can’t get them all!” Beverly wailed, clutching onto Ben’s arms for dear life. Ben was trying to throw her off of him, moving in an aggressive way that the normal Ben wouldn’t dare do. 

Stan and Mike were nearing the railing of the ship, and Richie couldn’t do anything, even though his mind was screaming at him to _move_ , goddamnit. His feet were glued to the floor, but he felt like the world was dropping out from under him. This was _his fault_. If he hadn’t been so hurried, if he’d stopped to catch his breath, he wouldn’t have screwed up the aim and they would be on their way to some tropical isle right now. 

Richie had never really “had” anyone his whole life, and that overwhelming loneliness had led him down some dark roads. The person he had been years ago was bitter, and desperate, and cruel. He had done unforgivable things that now made him wake up screaming in the middle of the night. But this ship? This crew? They led him out of that place, and they loved him with everything they had. Richie was no saint, and he never would be. But they didn’t care about that, not really. 

As he watched Beverly’s flaming red hair stick to her tear-streaked face, he thought for a moment. And as he watched as Eddie kept fighting, even though the odds and the entire world was against him, he decided. 

It was stupid, for sure. And definitely reckless. But Richie wanted to give them a fighting chance. It was the least he could do. But he needed to do one thing first.

“Eddie?” Richie ran up to him where he was still fighting Bill’’s movements. 

“What?” He stopped with Bill for a moment, figuring he would be fine for a minute or two. Eddie sounded angry, and exasperated, and loving all at once. That was one of Richie’s favorite things about him- you never knew what you were gonna get. He kept you on your toes. “Richie, I care, I really do, but you need to-”

“First of all, I love you. I always have and I always will.” 

Then, before he could chicken out, he crashed his lips down on Eddie’s. In all regards, this was an absolutely horrible kiss. Eddie had been opening his mouth to speak, so they were in an uncomfortable position, and there was an abnormal amount of teeth. Also, Richie had always been shit at reading the room- this was probably his worst job yet. And then there was the fact that their crewmates were currently trying to launch themselves into the depths of the raging sea. 

But in a way, it was also an absolutely wonderful kiss. Better than he’d ever imagined. Eddie’s lips were soft, and he tasted like the salt of the ocean. Eddie wrapped his hands up into Richie’s hair, making him smile. The wind blew around them, and he pulled Eddie closer to him, both for completely physical reasons and to shield him from the wind. And then he remembered where they were, and what he was about to do. 

Richie (begrudgingly) pulled away with a gasp, looking down into the other man’s ridiculously wide eyes. He needed to burn this image into his memory. Christ, Eddie was absolutely beautiful. 

“Second of all, I’m sorry. But this will distract them long enough for you to get away, maybe even satiate them, I don’t know.” 

Richie took one last look at Eddie, at his chestnut brown hair, at his smooth, tanned skin, at his parted lips which were forming some sort of protest. 

And then he ran, past Beverly and Ben, past the others, who were climbing onto the rail. He only hoped he’d make it before they did. And then Richie was diving over the side of the ship, somewhat gracefully slipping into the depths below. 

\--------

The minute he touched the water, the singing abruptly stopped. 

“RICHIE!” Eddie screamed, tearing his vocal cords raw while the others finally came to their senses. He ran to the railing and nearly collapsed on it, frantically searching the water, searching for any sign of Richie Tozier. Tears ran down his red face, and he choked on his sobs while Beverly approached, a hand rubbing comforting circles into his back. 

“He’s gone, baby. He’s gone.” She said, her voice choked and strained from the tears that were forming in her eyes. 

\--------

Underwater, Richie was at peace for the first time in his life. 

Everything was much quieter down here, and while he couldn’t see anything in the darkness, he somehow knew that it was beautiful. He could hear the sirens swimming around him, and a few times, he felt a tendril of hair drag across his skin. But he wasn’t afraid. 

His shirt billowed out around him as he stuck his arms and legs out. The dark curls of his hair floated out, giving him an odd sort of halo. He could tell that he was sinking, and his lungs burned as his time ticked down. Then he remembered Eddie. The way he had felt in his arms, on his lips. The way his spindly fingers felt whenever they had darted across his skin. Their time together was over now, and that saddened him. But it was better this way. This way, Eddie, and everyone else, was safe. 

Richie fell asleep with a slight smile on his lips. 

\--------

Back on the decks of the Queen Penny, things were decidedly less peaceful. 

“Let me go! Let me go, you bastards!” Eddie screamed as he thrashed about. The other five crew members were restraining him with firm hands as Eddie kicked, punched, bit, and did whatever else he could do so they would Let. Him. Go. 

“Eddie, you know we can’t do that.” Mike still sounded apologetic even as he received a bony elbow to the ribs.  
“Like hell you can’t!” Eddie spit in someone’s face- Bill’s, probably. “You don’t understand- I can save him! There’s still time!” Kick, punch, kick. 

“He’s gone. We need to get going now, before the sirens decide they want seconds.” Stan said, to which Eddie responded by crashing his heavy boot down onto Stan’s foot. 

“Eddie, darling, calm down.” Beverly pleaded. 

“Let. Me. GO!” Eddie yelled, and after he finished, he erupted into a blood curdling scream, making the others instinctively loosen their grip so they could cover their ears. He screamed again for good measure, making a noise so otherworldly and animal-like that there was no way it could have been created by a human. 

“What the hell? Eddie-” Bill began, but before the others could grab him once more, Eddie was tearing out of the group and running towards the side of the ship. 

“Eddie, don’t!” Ben called, chasing after him. But it was too late. Eddie, too, had now joined Richie below the depths. A couple of sirens snarled up at them from the water, seeming to say, _don’t even think about fighting for him_. Beverly cried for the third time that day, but this time she had Ben to hold her. 

Bill sunk to the deck, his head in his hands. How had he lost two of his crew members? No, two of his _family_ members?


	3. Three

Richie woke up to a pair of unfamiliar lips on his. 

Wait, no. These lips were definitely familiar, even though he’d only felt them once. And they were saltier than the last time, and they were blowing air into his mouth. 

He gasped for breath instinctively, finally noticing the way his lungs were screaming for a gulp of fresh air. The figure on top of him- Eddie, he thought happily- pulled off of him, leaving him freezing cold. He was somehow soaking wet. How had he gotten wet? He remembered the sirens, and the kiss, and then- oh. 

“He’s awake.” Someone, Ben, said. His words were followed with a whooping noise of delight, from what could only be Beverly. 

Richie blinked several times, breaking away the salt that had crusted along his eyes, and clearing his vision of the water that had gotten into his eyes. He could see it now- it was still the dead of the night, and the moon shone brightly down on them. There was no screaming, or singing for that matter. It was quiet, besides the screaming of the wind. 

“Don’t ever pull that shit on us again, alright?” Beverly was kneeling beside him now, her words shaky as she ran a hand through his damp hair. Before he could answer, Richie was shooting up and coughing mouthful after mouthful of salt water up onto the deck. Christ, that shit burned. He wouldn’t be swallowing normally for at least a couple days. 

“How…” He began, and then coughed again several times. There was still a lot of fluid in his body, and his mouth gurgled before he could continue. What, had he swallowed the entire ocean while he was down there? “How did I get here?” He should be partially digesting in the stomach of a siren right about now. 

“Eddie saved you.” Bill said, casting an uneasy look at who Richie could now clearly see was Eddie. A stupid smile broke out on Richie’s face as he looked at the man who he thought he would never see again. If he trusted himself enough to stand, he probably would have wrapped Eddie up in a painfully sappy embrace. If that’s what he wanted. Richie had kind of… planted that kiss on him with no warning and no permission. Maybe Eddie would hit him. He could see his tiny fists of fury planting one right on his eye any minute now. 

In his defense, he thought he would be dead before he had to deal with the aftermath. 

“How?” Richie finally sputtered. Eddie was amazing, and Richie thought he could do anything, don’t get him wrong. But breathe underwater? And fight off an entire pod of sirens? That was impossible for anyone. 

“He should tell you himself.” Bill kept staring hard at Eddie, who simply nodded and refused to meet his eyes. Richie could feel some kind of animosity or tension between the two of them, but why? How long had he been out? 

“Let’s all go back below deck, shall we?” Beverly said, and she began to herd the others towards the doors. Richie and Eddie both shot her a grateful smile, and she winked back at them. Beverly whispered something unintelligible to Eddie, and then shut the door behind her, leaving the two of them alone on deck like they had been so many times before. Except this time was different. Richie’s pulse raced- he’d complicated things, just like he had feared. 

“I guess I owe you the truth,” Eddie began, settling himself on the deck next to Richie. “Please don’t hate me.” 

“I would never hate you.” Richie promised. (Would you hate me?)

Eddie took in a breath, steeling himself for whatever he was going to say next. 

“You know how I never talk about my parents?” He asked, and Richie nodded. “Alright. So, my father was a surgeon on the mainland. That’s where I got my training from. And my mother, well, she was, um,” Eddie paused, licking his lips. 

“You can tell me.” Richie said, sounding a little bit more passionate than he’d meant to. 

“She was a siren, Rich.” Eddie’s voice was below a whisper as he ducked his head.

“Are you serious?” Richie’s eyes widened. He wasn’t sure how to feel. Sad? Angry? Betrayed? In awe? Nonchalant? This was uncharted territory, even for a well traveled pirate like himself. “So.. did you call them here?” He asked, trying not to sound as hurt as he was about that possibility. 

“Jesus, no. I would never do that. You guys are my family,” Eddie responded immediately. “I’m not sure why they were here. Bored and hungry, most likely.” 

“Oh. Alright.” Richie didn’t know what else to say. Why hadn’t Eddie told him sooner? They were close- he wished that Eddie had known that he could tell him anything. 

“So, when you threw yourself overboard, I jumped down there too. I talked to them- well, sang to them, and we reached an agreement, so-” 

“What kind of agreement? You didn’t,” Richie dropped his voice. “Sell yourself or anything?” 

“No! Are you joking?” Eddie looked at him incredulously, making Richie’s heart swell with the familiarity of it all. Some things never changed. “I can’t believe you, I’m trying to have a serious conversation right now-” 

“That was a serious question!” 

“A serious conversation about my mysterious past and everything, and you can’t just-” 

“Alright, alright. I will remain quiet for the rest of the heart-to-heart talk,” Richie sat criss-cross, his hands folded in his lap. 

“Thank you-” 

“Wait, can I at least know what the agreement was?” Richie asked, and Eddie groaned. 

“I gave them the location of Henry Bowers’ ship.” He mumbled, his face a mixture of guilt and glee. 

“That’s my boy!” Richie crowed happily. “And they just accepted it?” 

“They prefer people with ‘blackened souls’. Their words, not mine. It’s something about the poetic justice of it.” Eddie shrugged, his lips twitching as they formed a slight smile. 

“So you not only saved my life, but you took down our biggest enemy while doing it,” Richie shook his head in disbelief. “You never fail to amaze me, Kaspbrak.”   
They sat there for a moment, smiling at each other like idiots. 

“I feel like I should let you know that I’m not a siren, not really. I can just hold my breath longer and swim better than most. Sometimes I can sing, but I’ve never really tried, and I just found out I can make that weird screaming noise they make when they’re angry. And honestly, I’ve spent my whole life denying this, so-” 

“Eds, don’t worry. I don’t care that you’re part fish or something. I just care that you’re you.” Richie reached out an absent minded hand, running it along Eddie’s arm and letting it stop on his shoulder. 

“So we’re fine?” Eddie asked, looking at him with his unfairly beautiful brown eyes.

“We are more than fine.” Richie laughed a little bit, and soon after, Eddie joined him. 

“I have to ask- the thing you said earlier.” Eddie paused. 

“What about it?” Richie’s pulse slowed, then quickened, then slowed again. This would go one of two ways, both of which Richie was not planning on experiencing. Again, he had assumed he would be dead by now. 

“Did you mean it?” 

“Of course I meant it. I don’t joke about that kind of thing.” Richie’s brow furrowed. 

“Richie, yes you do.” 

“Touche.” 

“I was going to say, ‘me too’.” Eddie mumbled. In turn, Richie’s jaw dropped. 

“Huh?” Real eloquent, Rich. 

“I love you too. I have for a while. I was too scared to say it out loud.” He blinked at Richie, unsure of where to go next. The good news was that Richie knew where to go next. 

Richie kissed him again. This time, he was doing it the proper way. You know, without imminent and certain death looming over his head. It was slow, and warm, and Richie’s entire body felt electrified. 

If underwater was falling asleep, then this was coming alive.


End file.
